Letting Life Go On
by Kkarrie
Summary: "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life; It Goes On." - Robert Frost. After a tragic accident the gang is left to sort out the pieces and move on. Lassiter is finding it is harder then he thought it would be. Warning: Char Death
1. Chapter 1

Lassiter sipped his coffee as he surveyed the crime scene. The scene was fresh. The crime tape had only been put up in the past hour. The officers that had been first on the scene had written it off as a simple B&E, but after investigating the back room of the house they had discovered a body. It would take an official report from the lab about the fingerprint analysis, but the general consensus was that the body belonged to the homeowner, James Hubert. COD was still unknown as well, but Lassiter was pretty sure it had something to do with the pool of blood the body had been found lying in.

"Well that is a little gross." Shawn Spencer observed from behind Lassiter.

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "It's blood and possibly part of his brain, of course it is gross."

"Normally this stuff is all cleaned up before I get let into a crime scene." Shawn pointed out. "It is a good thing Gus isn't here. If he were, he'd be contaminating the crime scene's bathroom right about now."

"Guster is out on his pharmaceutical route. You know that." Lassiter grumbled as he tried to take some mental notes of the crime scene.

"Well, yes, but I was just saying that it's pretty gross and he wouldn't like it."

"Detective," McNab called to Lassiter from the front door.

Lassiter glared at Spencer again before going to see what the rookie wanted.

"Detective O'Hara just took statements from the neighbors." McNab informed Lassiter. "I'll send you a copy of the statements from the men who were first on the scene."

Lassiter nodded. "As quickly as possible."

McNab nodded and then tilted his head to the side. "Are you doing alright, sir?"

Lassiter scowled at McNab. "I'm fine. Tell O'Hara I want copies of her reports as well."

Shawn followed Lassiter as he headed out to his car. "Man, Buzz sure looks funny making his clue face like that."

"What the hell is a clue face?" Lassiter snapped. "Never mind, I don't even want to know. Besides, there was no clue, I'm fine." He assured Spencer. "Now go find something childish to occupy your time, I have actual police work to do."

hcyspsych

Lassiter smiled slightly when he walked into the station. O'Hara's reports were sitting neatly on his desk waiting for him. His partner had been working hard recently. He supposed they all had, but O'Hara seemed to be throwing herself into her work more then she had before.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with the neighbor's reports. No one had really heard anything. Time of death was around two in the afternoon. That was before school let out, but after the lunch hour when people might be home. One brave neighbor had ID'd the picture of the body. Mr. Hubert was not married, which meant there was no wife to call. Dobson had volunteered to call the next of kin, a cousin in San Diego. Which was fine. Lassiter didn't really want to deal with explaining to someone that their cousin had died.

"I bet he was stabbed by monkeys." Shawn said.

Lassiter jumped and saw the psychic sitting in the chair on the other side of Lassiter's desk.

"Or, and don't quote me on this. He could have been assassinated by John Wilkes Booth."

"John Wilkes Booth assassinated President Lincoln." Lassiter muttered.

"Well, then he was assassinated by a time traveling John Wilkes Booth."

"Please just go away. I have work to do and after that I want to shoot things." Lassiter rubbed his hands over his face and went back to his reports. Spencer didn't answer him and when Lassiter looked up again, the younger man was gone.

After two hours, Lassiter stretched and went to get some coffee.

"Detective Lassiter," Chief Vick's voice called to him as he passed her open office door.

Lassiter slowly walked through her door, knowing that his coffee would have to wait.

"Carlton, please have a seat." The chief motioned to the chairs in front of her desk.

Lassiter inwardly groaned. When the chief called him by his first name and not his title, nothing good ever came of it. "Chief, can we make this quick? I have reports to finish up and then I was hoping to log some time at the range."

"Sit," Vick pointed to the chair again.

Lassiter sat and crossed his arms.

"Carlton, Officer McNab and Detective O'Hara came to me separately and voiced their concern."

"Noted. I work with caring people." Lassiter drawled.

Vick gave him a disapproving look. "Carlton, no one would blame you if you went to see the department psychiatrist. The accident threw us all for a loop. With everything we've been through together we just didn't expect it. We have all been through a lot lately and-"

"I am fine, chief." Lassiter cut her off.

"I know it has been hard for me. I can't imagine what you've had to deal with." The chief continued as if she hadn't heard his interruption. "McNab has mentioned more than once that you seem to be talking to yourself while at the crime scene."

"Spencer used to lick things at crime scenes and no one said he had to go seek psychiatric help, except for me." Lassiter protested. "I am fine, chief. It has just been a long day."

The chief gave him a doubtful look, but sighed. "You're right. I think it's time for you to head home, detective."

Lassiter stood, she was back to using his title, that was good. He was half way out the door when her voice stopped him again.

"Make sure you get some sleep. I can't afford to lose you too."

Lassiter nodded, but didn't turn back. He grabbed his jacket and his copies of the case files from his desk and headed out to his car.

"What'd the chief want?" Spencer asked as he followed Lassiter down the steps.

"None of your business," Lassiter grumbled at him.

"Well, if it was about me, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't and no you're not. You've never been sorry in your life." Lassiter fished in his pocket for his keys.

"That's not true! I was sorry when Justin Timberlake tried to bring sexy back." Shawn objected, coming around to Lassiter's left side.

Lassiter flung open the driver's side door and reflexively reached out to stop the door from going to far. He wasn't quick enough and the door opened all the way.

Instead of hitting Spencer in the stomach and knocking him to the ground, the door simply passed through the psychic as if he weren't there.

Shawn gave a smile. "That never gets old." He waved a hand through the frame of the door.

"You know that is really disturbing to watch." Lassiter's mood was not improving.

"I know, I know, you've told like a hundred bajillion times." Shawn laughed as Lassiter shut the door and started his car. "See you later Lassifrass." The psychic waved.

Lassiter shook his head and drove home. As much as he wanted to go fire off a half dozen rounds at the range, he knew if the chief saw him at the station again she would force him to go on vacation. She was already worried about him there was no need to push her over the edge.

hcyspsych

Lassiter trudged his way up his steps after parking in the garage. He flipped through his keyring trying to find the key to the front door. He was thinking about what the chief had said. The past couple months had been hard. The accident had been unforeseen. He supposed that's why they were called accidents. The chaos had started with The Phone Call. He always referred to it as The Phone Call to differentiate it from all other phone calls he'd ever had. It had been a bright sunny Thursday, just after lunch. Lassiter had eaten a turkey sandwich only a few seconds before the phone rang.

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_Lassiter was starting to go through the paperwork that had been piling up on his desk. O'Hara was sitting at her desk across the way and was doing the exact same thing. They didn't have a case at the moment and were using the rare down time they had to work on their backlog. Lassiter had just opened the case report about the trip he'd taken to Vancouver when the phone rang._

_"Carlton Lassiter," Lassiter greeted the person on the phone._

_O'Hara listened and watched as her partner's face flickered with confusion._

_"Wait, slow down, what?" Then Lassiter's jaw tightened and O'Hara knew something was wrong. "We'll be there as soon as possible." Lassiter said barely hanging up the phone before he stood and headed for the door, completely forgetting his jacket. "C'mon O'Hara. Spencer is in the hospital." He snapped._

_By the time the detectives reached the hospital Shawn was gone. Henry was there to tell them. _

_Lassiter was trying to ask questions and console O'Hara at the same time. It hadn't been a crazy gunman, a bomb, or anything case related. It had been a careless driver. A van merged and hadn't seen the psychic on his motorcycle. It had been an accident._

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Lassiter gave a half hearted smirk as he found the right key and turned it in the lock. He tossed his jacket on the chair next to the door and the files on the kitchen table. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and some leftover pizza before sitting down at the table to go over the statements. He was half way through the statements when he finished his dinner, if you could really call it that.

"You really shouldn't have those here." Shawn's voice was back and so was the psychic. This time he was sitting on Lassiter's kitchen counter. "The chief wouldn't be happy if she knew you had those here." He nodded his head at the files.

Lassiter got up from the table and tossed his napkin in the trash. He ignored the psychic's comment and headed down the hall to his bed room.

"C'mon, Lassie, don't go off in a huff!" Shawn followed him down the hall.

When Lassiter got to his bedroom he shut the door.

Shawn walked through it shaking his head. "That hasn't worked once since I showed up. Why would you think that would work tonight?"

Lassiter turned to face him. He was dressed in his dress slacks and shirt. His tie had come off in the car on the way home and he had just toed off his shoes.

The past few months hadn't been kind to Lassiter. The stress levels were getting to him. The grey of his sideburns had been slowly creeping its way up through his scalp and he had a day's worth of stubble on his face.

"Damnit Spencer," Lassiter cursed. "Why are you here?"

Shawn shrugged. "Because you're the only one that can see me. Hanging out with anyone else just wouldn't be fun. Although I have to admit it is getting kind of frustrating."

"Frustrating?" Lassiter snapped, pulling too hard on his shirt and making a button pop off. It made a small tink as it hit the mirror across the room. "You think it's frustrating?" He didn't bother to retrieve the button and just tossed the shirt into a pile in the corner. "I had my whole life sorted out after you went and got hit by that van and then you showed up in the middle of my house. What did I do to deserve being haunted by you?" He pulled a t-shirt over his head and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the top of the hamper.

Spencer was leaning against the door. Lassiter could never figure out why he was able to walk through things, but sit or stand on them at other times. The younger man shrugged. "I don't know, Lassie. I just feel like I'm not done here." With that he turned and walked back through the closed door.

Lassiter shook his head and laid down on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling and thought about the first time Spencer had shown up.

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_Lassiter had come home only because the chief had chased him out of the station after being there for 18 hours. He'd been going through his mail and turned around. If Lassiter had been a lesser man he probably would have screamed._

_"Spencer?" Lassiter asked slowly putting down his mail. He reached out and tried to touch the psychic. He jumped back when his hand went right through him. "What the Hell?" He sank down into one of the cheap, uncomfortable kitchen chairs he'd gotten in the divorce settlement._

_"Sorry about that Lassie," Spencer apologized. "I should have warned you about the not being all there thing." He waved a hand through the counter and grinned as it passed through._

_Lassiter ran his hands over his face and then pinched himself when the psychic didn't disappear. "What? How? Why?" He asked, starting several sentences not knowing which one he wanted to ask first._

_"Easy there Lassifrass, this isn't a fifth grade book report." Shawn said holding up his hands at the barrage of questions. "Firstly, I am in your kitchen. I've been here for two weeks. Apparently I'm some sort of ghost/spirit." He looked around. "I must say the place looks better then it did last year when I was here, although I had been pistol whipped at the time, so that might have had something to do with it."_

_"You've been here for two weeks?" There were so many parts of Spencer's explanation that Lassiter could have gravitated to, but for some reason that was the part that stuck out to him._

_Spencer nodded. "Yeah, and you know, you probably should be home more. It is kind of relaxing here."_

hcyspsych

Neither of them had been able to figure out what the psychic was doing in Lassiter's kitchen and why Lassiter was the only one that could see him. Lassiter sighed and rubbed his hands over his face hoping that sleep would come sooner rather than later.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Lassiter got up and went through his morning routine. It wasn't until he started putting his three creams and four sugars in his coffee that he noticed Spencer wasn't there with him. He frowned and looked around the entire apartment for him before shaking his head and heading to work. Maybe the past month had simply been hallucinations.

Lassiter tried to clear his thoughts as he sat down at his desk. He needed to get to work and solve the Hubert case.

"Any new leads?" O'Hara's voice broke into Lassiter's concentration. Lassiter snapped his eyes up from the case report to see his partner standing in front of him. He normally wasn't the kind of person who paid attention to changes in people's behaviors, unless he was investigating them as part of a crime, but he had noticed a change in O'Hara over the past three months. Her chipper attitude was lacking and her hair had gotten messy again. There were usually bags under her eyes, as if she wasn't getting enough sleep if she were getting any at all.

Lassiter shook his head. "We're still waiting on the coroner's report. Until then we can only question the neighbors."

O'Hara stifled a yawn. "You got the copy of my statements, right?

Lassiter held up the file with his partner's delicate penmanship across the label. "Got them last night."

O'Hara gave a small smile. "Good, I told the coroner to let me know as soon as his report is finished."

Lassiter nodded and watched his partner walk away.

"She's not wearing those super swanky pant suits any more." Shawn said a little sadly.

Lassiter turned to see the psychic watching O'Hara walk back to her desk. "Where have you been?" He demanded.

"I was out. Why, Lassifrass? Do you suddenly care about where I go now?" Shawn teased.

Lassiter glared at him. "You usually bug me all morning while I'm at the apartment. I was just wondering where you were when I didn't have to answer a large number of ridiculous questions while eating breakfast this morning."

"You mean while you drank coffee and ate half a bagel with a tiny, microscopic bit of cream cheese on it?" Shawn asked. "Seriously, you need to eat some eggs or bacon in the morning. Good protein."

"Stop judging what I eat!" Lassiter protested, keeping his voice quiet. He didn't need the chief after him for 'talking to himself' again. He grabbed some files, they needed to go back into the evidence room.

Shawn followed behind him, changing the subject as he talked. "You know who you haven't talked to in a long time?"

Lassiter knew what the answer to that question. He didn't respond and just let Spencer continue.

"Gus. You should call him up and get coffee. I want to know how he's doing."

Lassiter was quiet as he unlocked the door to the evidence room. He hadn't seen Guster since the funeral and he had done everything to avoid him there. The last time he had had a conversation with Burton Guster was the day of the accident.

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_Henry came back to the waiting area. He'd just called Shawn's mother. His eyes were red and watery. He sat down and sighed. "I have to call Gus." He stared at his phone. "He's going to be devastated."_

_"I'll call him." Lassiter heard himself volunteer. "You shouldn't have to." He gave Henry a firm pat on the shoulder and then pulled open his cell phone. He started to dial Guster's number and then closed the phone. This was something that had to be done in person._

_It was Thursday, which meant Guster was on his route. After getting his schedule from the office, Lassiter was waiting for the pharmaceutical rep when he walked out of Dr. Allen's office building._

_"Lassie? What are you doing here?" Gus was rolling his samples case behind him. His face was puzzled. He only saw Lassiter when he was on a case with Shawn._

_"Guster," Lassiter felt his stomach tighten. He never had problems calling the next of kin in murder investigations, but this was different. "you should sit down."_

_Gus gave him a weird look, but sat on the bench just outside Dr. Allen's door._

_Lassiter paced for a second. "There's... there's been an accident."_

_"What kind of accident? Is Juliet okay?" The wheels in Gus' head were spinning as he went through every possible scenario of why Lassiter was there. When Lassiter didn't say anything, Gus' shoulders slumped. "Shawn?" He whispered._

_Lassiter sighed and then sat on the bench as well. "I just came from the hospital. He was hit by a van. He's dead." Lassiter watched Guster's face go through a mixture of shock and disbelief and then the tears had started. Any other time Lassiter would have told Guster to suck it up and be a man, but now, looking at him Lassiter just silently offered him his handkerchief._

hcyspsych

"Lassie! You still with me buddy?"

Lassiter scowled and opened the door. "Of course I am. I'm fine."

"So are you going to call Gus?"

"I'm not going to go talk with Guster just because you don't know how he's doing. You can go stalk him yourself."

"But I can't ask him things. Lassie, if you go then I can have you ask things!"

"Absolutely not." Lassiter refused. "Your psychic bull crap was bad enough when you were actually alive, Spencer. I will not tolerate it when you're..."

"Gone," Shawn supplied.

"Dead," Lassiter sighed.

"Carlton?" O'Hara's voice came from the doorway and made Lassiter jump.

"What?" He snapped out, harsher then he meant to be with his partner.

Juliet flinched involuntarily, but stood her ground. "The coroner's report is going to be delayed due to some inconsistencies. That's what Woody says at least."

Lassiter nodded, wondering if he should apologize to her.

"Are you doing alright, Carlton?"

There is was. The dreaded question. Everyone asked him that. The chief, McNab, O'Hara. They all asked him at least twice a day. It was a constant inquiry into Lassiter's personal life.

"I'm fine, O'Hara." Lassiter gave his usual response, ignoring the look Spencer was giving him. He hated the way Spencer's looks made him squirm. It was like he knew what was really going on inside Lassiter's head every time someone asked him if he was fine. Lassiter scowled, the psychic was a damn ghost... or something, Lassiter shouldn't feel guilty because of his looks.

"I'm going to get lunch with Gus. Do you want to come along?" Juliet gave Lassiter a hopeful look.

"You should go with her, Lassie! Go see Gus and tell him to not be a weeping chocolate bunny." Shawn encouraged him.

Lassiter slowly shook his head. "I can't today." He said and then brushed by his partner to head upstairs.

"Lassie, Juliet is probably going to cry down there because you won't go get lunch with her." Shawn was yelling after his as Lassiter tried to head back to his desk.

"Go away, Spencer. I can't deal with you today. Please give me a day where I can think I'm not going insane." Lassiter hissed, turning abruptly to face ended up walking through Lassiter, which meant the detective had to turn again so he could look at the psychic. "Go do something else and leave me alone."

"Fine," Spencer was upset and for once Lassiter was glad no one was able to hear him. "I'll go watch my best friend and the girl I flirted with for four years, but never had the guts to tell her I liked her, have lunch. I'll let you know if they say anything interesting." He stuck his tongue out at Lassiter.

Lassiter threw his hands up in the air and stormed off to the morgue. He wanted an explanation of the 'inconsistencies' O'Hara had mentioned.

hcyspsych

Buzz McNab stood watching the exchange between Detective Lassiter and what was apparently empty air. He frowned slightly and then went to find Juliet.

"Hi, Buzz." Juliet tried to be cheerful as the rookie cop came up to her desk.

"Detective," McNab nodded, being polite. He shifted from foot to fooot.

"What is it, Buzz? I have to go through these witness statements."

The rookie spoke carefully, not wanting to imply anything that wasn't true. "Have you noticed something off about Detective Lassiter in the past few months."

Juliet glanced around to make sure Lassiter wasn't around. "I'm glad I'm not the only one. He has been off since we worked the double homocide about about a month ago." She was whispering, just in case.

"I just saw him have a conversation with an empty corridor."

"He's talking to himself all morning and in the evidence room when I went down there to ask him to lunch."

"Have you gone to the chief?"

O'Hara nodded. "A couple of times. I know she talked to him yesterday, but he keeps saying he's fine."

"The weird part," McNab hesitated, he didn't like telling tales outside of school. "He said something about Shawn."

Juliet took a deep breath "Just keep an eye on him," She gave Buzz a shaky smile and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I've got to head out to lunch."

"Say hi to Gus for me. Tell him he doesn't have to be a stranger around here."

hcyspsych

Lassiter grumbled as he walked to the deli just a few blocks from the station. O'Hara had been right when she had said the coroner's report would be delayed. Apparently it took a while to find out why a man bled to death.

He found an empty booth in the corner and for once was ignoring his surroundings. Being able to eat with out the prying eyes and constant yapping of Spencer would be a nice change.

"I'm just worried about him,"

Lassiter froze. His partner's voice was a sound Lassiter could pick out of a crowd of a hundred people.

"He hasn't said a word to me since... that day."

Damn it, that was Guster's voice. Why of all the places that they could have gone for lunch did they pick the same place as Lassiter. They had to be in the booth behind him. Hopefully they wouldn't notice he was there.

"Gus, I'm worried about him. He's talking to himself at crime scenes, at the station." O'Hara sighed. "Buzz thought he heard him talking to Shawn today."

"Do you think he's losing it?" Lassiter could hear the tinge of concern in Guster's voice.

O'Hara sighed again. "I really wish I knew. I wish he would go talk to the department psychiatrist. I think it would be good for him."

Lassiter frowned and then had to hold in a groan when he saw Shawn sitting across the booth from him.

"They really do care for you, Lassie." The psychic said. "You should go say hello. Well, maybe not right now because that could get a little awkward, since they're talking about you."

Lassiter rolled his eyes and tried to focus on what his partner was saying.

"The chief has noticed it too." She was still talking about him.

"I won't lie and say that I've been fine since..." Guster trailed off.

"It's been hard. I just wish Lassiter would see that." O'Hara agreed with him.

Lassiter frowned. He knew it was hard. Why should it be easier for him then anyone else. He'd known Spencer just as well as the rest of them... albeit reluctantly.

"This is called sharing feelings, Lassie." Shawn was leaning on the table, his chin propped up on his hands. "It's what normal people do."

"I share my feelings," Lassiter hissed at him. "Just not with everyone."

"Name the last person you shared your feelings with, and don't say my mom, because we both know that you faked that session." Shawn challenged him.

"Damn it, you have no idea what you're talking about." Lassiter half shouted. The case was going no where and now Spencer was wanting him to share his feelings. He stormed out of the deli.

As her partner left Juliet looked to Gus, wide eyed. She had no doubt that her partner had heard every word of the conversation she had just had.

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Lassiter was walking fast as he headed back to the station.

Shawn was walking backwards in front of him, talking the whole time. "You need to cool down, Lassie. We don't want your blood pressure to get too high."

Before Lassiter could give a response he heard someone running behind him. The detective turned and saw Burton Guster, half sprinting after him.

"Lassiter," Gus caught up with him and had to bend over to catch his breath.

"Guster," Lassiter saw a huge grin spreading across Spencer's face.

"Dude, you have to talk to him. I need to know what he's doing. Is he dating anyone? I bet Gus is getting all the sympathy dates he can."

"You heard what Juliet said?" Gus had caught his breath and was standing normally.

Lassiter nodded. "It's what everyone has been saying."

"That you're not fine?"

"They think I'm crazy. They think I've finally snapped. That Spencer's death was the final nail in the coffin holding my brain." Lassiter was venting now. "I've heard the murmurs. McNab and O'Hara's are the nicest."

"Well..." Gus thought back to Juliet's comment about Lassiter talking to himself. "What about Shawn?" The man's voice cracked as he said his best friend's name even after two months and he stared at the ground.

"Give him a hug, Lassie." Shawn looked sad and was standing next to Gus. "Sometimes a man just needs a hug."

"I don't do hugs," Lassiter frowned at him.

Gus looked up. "Hugs?"

Lassiter sighed. "Sometimes... a man just needs a hug." He braced himself internally and held out his arms. "Do you want a hug, Guster?" He could see Spencer's face break out into glee, an emotion Lassiter had almost forgotten about.

Gus slowly shook his head. "No, thanks, I'm good. What about Shawn?"

Lassiter dropped his arms and put his hands in his pockets. He knew he couldn't tell Guster what he'd been seeing for the past month. That would just confirm the murmurs. He would have officially gone crazy. "Nothing about Spencer." He ignored the glare Spencer was giving him at that very moment. "I'm fine."

"Lassie," Shawn protested as the detective turned to walk away. "I can't even give him a fist bump!"

Lassiter didn't turn around. He wasn't going to share his feelings with Guster. He knew that much. There was a case to solve. Hubert had been murdered, Lassiter was sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

"What do you mean Hubert wasn't murdered?" Lassiter flipped through the coroner's report. "It was a B&E."

Juliet shook her head. "That's what the first on the scene officers said. After more investigating, the mess in the study was caused by Mr. Hubert when he was stumbling around. The coroner found a brain aneurysm. He fell, hit his head against the hearth of the fireplace and bled out."

"That must have really hurt." Shawn noted, he was sitting on the conference room table. Lassiter had taken his files in there to better analyze them when he'd gotten back to the station.

Neither had said a word about the incident at lunch, but now that the case was out of the way, Juliet spoke up. "Carlton, about lunch."

Lassiter's shoulders tensed. "I know what people are saying, O'Hara."

"They-"

"They're saying I'm crazy." Lassiter turned to face her. "And maybe they're right."

Juliet slowly sat in the chair next to Lassiter.

"I shove my emotions to the back. I don't deal with them, because if I deal with them it's admitting that I have a fault." Lassiter was leaning on the armrest, his chin propped up on one hand. "And sometimes those pent up emotions manifest themselves in ways that I hoped they never would."

"Hey! That's not nice, Lassiface!" Shawn objected.

Lassiter ignored him and continued. "You're not the only one who misses Spencer."

"You miss him?" O'Hara seemed surprised.

"I'm not a damn robot." Lassiter snapped, and then softened when O'Hara winced a little. "He was a pain in the ass, but he was my pain in the ass. He was frustrating, but he got results. I was a better detective with him around." He motioned towards the coroner's report. "I should have known that it wasn't a robbery. I should have seen the tell-tale signs of a man in trouble."

Juliet reached out a hand and patted Lassiter on the knee. "We're all a little off."

"But I shouldn't be." Lassiter objected. "I deal with death on a weekly basis. This shouldn't throw me off."

"It's because you don't miss the dead bodies in the cases. You miss me, Lassie." Shawn seemed a little proud of that fact.

"Shawn liked you," Juliet gave a little smile. "He wouldn't have stuck around if he hadn't liked you."

"He wasn't sticking around because of me," Lassiter shook his head. "Spencer stuck around because of you."

"I stuck around for both of you," Shawn clarified. "And to provide Gus with a stable income to help support his sock habit."

"I really miss him," Juliet sniffed.

"Me too," Lassiter stood and offered her a hug, feeling much more comfortable then when Spencer had prodded him to hug Guster.

After a few moments, O'Hara left to finish up her paperwork and to put together a statement for the newspaper.

Lassiter stacked up his files.

"You shared your feelings and the world didn't end." Shawn was now lounging on the table.

Lassiter grunted in reply.

"You're going to have to let me go eventually, Lassie."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow at him. "I have to let you go? Aren't you the one hanging around?"

"I'm only here because you think you need me to solve your cases."

"Unlikely," Lassiter picked up his pile of folders.

"It's true," Shawn followed him as he headed to the front desk. "Deep down, you know there's no possible way that I could be here, unless you've gone crazy. And since you haven't gone crazy then you must be imagining me."

Lassiter looked around and made sure no one was watching, and then he sighed. "Spencer, what if I can't solve the cases without you?"

Shawn gave him one of his trademark smiles. "You did it before I got here, you can do it now that I'm gone." When Lassiter didn't respond, Shawn continued. "Just keep working with Jules, she's awesome. Maybe help her find an awesome boyfriend. Not more awesome than me, but you know, better then average."

"I really doubt that I'd imagine you telling me to get O'Hara a date." Lassiter grumbled as he signed a few release forms and statements. "Besides, what are you? My conscience?"

"I've been your Jiminy Cricket for the past month, Lassie. Since when I do I say things like 'Swanky pant suits'?"

Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"Just, let life go on." Shawn sighed.

Lassiter nodded absently as he signed the last form. "Life goes on." He looked around the station. McNab was talking with O'Hara. They were actually laughing about something. Maybe, things would be alright... without Spencer. They wouldn't be the same, but they wouldn't be horrible either.

Lassiter turned to Spencer, and oddly enough wasn't surprised to see the psychic gone. "Life goes on," Lassiter sighed.


End file.
